


The Best Laid Plans (involve a window seat)

by trashwriter



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Making Out, Ron worships the ground Carl walks on, Shiny New Relationship Worries, also Carl is a mountain lion, basically just a lot of feelings, not literally but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashwriter/pseuds/trashwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought we were avoiding the bed in order to keep today PG-thirteen rated?”</p>
<p>“That was your plan,” says Carl, threading his fingers through Ron’s hair, “Mine was something more like this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plans (involve a window seat)

Ron had worried that this whole thing would be harder. More painful. That it would require more work. Something.

But here he is curled up against Carl Grimes in his little window nook—because, honestly, after the last time the bed seems like too much temptation—watching Carl watch him with lazily hooded eyes. The inside of his knee is pressing against the outside of Ron’s thigh while his other leg hangs over the edge of the padded seat, and Ron is hyperaware of the contact, the points where their bodies touch feel like they’re burning  him.

Ron can’t say that he’s never been so scared, because he’s been way more scared than this. But somehow it’s a different kind of fear like if he pressed too hard Carl would just disappear.

Carl, by contrast looks—well, he looks good enough to eat—like a lazy cat splayed out in the sunshine. Or maybe that’s a bad example. A lazy mountain lion splayed out in the sunshine, content and benevolent and watching with languid and slightly predatory curiosity.

Carl is sure. Sure about them in the way he’s sure about everything. Once he’s decided he wants something or he needs something he’s unstoppable, implacable and woe fucking betide anyone or anything who doesn’t get the hell out of his way.

Ron’s just not used to the idea that a force of nature like Carl Grimes would decide that what he wanted was to make time with him. But for a couple of stuttered words and an even more stuttered kiss he’d just been handed exactly what he’d wanted, free of charge.

To be honest Ron was still holding his breath just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

“Ron?” he asks, shifting his hips invitingly as if his entire existence wasn’t already a temptation specifically crafted to push all of Ron’s buttons from the lean lines of his legs up to the fetching curls of hair brushing over his collarbones and back around to the faint unconscious hint of pure Georgia drawl that turns every word out of his perfect mouth into pure sex.

“Yeah?”

“You can touch me,” he says, like it’s really that simple, “I’m not gonna break or freak out or whatever it is you’re worried about.”

Ron laughs.

Doesn’t tell Carl that it’s not _him_ he’s worried about breaking. And gathers up the last shreds of his pride—‘cause his courage has long since gone awol—and leans down to catch Carl’s mouth in a kiss that is a little less sweet and a little more reverent than he was going for.

Carl doesn’t seem to mind, winding his arms around his neck and drawing him in close slanting their mouths in a way that makes Ron suck in an involuntary breath as the kiss turns toe-curling and Ron’s blood heat with every extra square inch of direct contact.

Carl licks into his mouth, slow, deliberate and demanding—tasting of mint and whatever sugary cereal he’d been eating for lunch—and before Ron realizes it they’ve melted together.

“See?” Carl pants against Ron’s mouth, “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

Ron can’t hold back the incredulous snort of laughter as he buries his face in Carl’s neck nor the slight groan as the tight front of his jeans is pressed more firmly into the inside of his thigh.

“I thought we were avoiding the bed in order to keep today PG-thirteen rated?”

“That was your plan,” says Carl, threading his fingers through Ron’s hair, “Mine was something more like this.”

And Carl drags him down by his hair into a kiss that is definitely R-rated and probably really only belongs in porn because the way it rolls his entire body up against Ron’s is indecent, decadent and probably illegal in some states.

It’s not enough to banish the fear, but it’s more than enough for Ron to decide he just does not give a shit. If the axe is gonna fall, let it. At least he’d die happy.

They have to break apart for air again and Carl’s frustrated impatient noise makes Ron’s hips twitch reflexively.

“Yeah, alright,” moans Ron as Carl hisses in pleasure and his blunt bitten-off nail score red lines down over his shoulder blades, “We’ll go with your plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> as usual done for a prompt on my tumblr, the nonnie asked for making out and got feelings instead *shrugs eternally*
> 
> hope you all enjoyed :)


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